Part 8 “Why should I ever come back?” she said to herself, as she went down the staircase. He rose at once to his feet and turned a white face upon her. Cathy Beck was outraged. Her fingers opened and the weapon fell from her nerveless grasp. Men had tried to kiss her— unshaven derelicts, some of them terrible—but she had always managed to escape. Through one doorway she saw a grave Chinaman standing on a stage-like platform. But if you don't want to get up, maybe three times ten days. After that night she made it a habit.
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